“where does it bloom?”
as they walked, she pointed to a ridge overlooking a deep ravine. he followed her quietly and recalled the sight of the olympus jutting proudly above the red sand.
how far have we come?
they seemed to have traveled out and back across the distant reaches of forever. time had been waiting to be discovered. and they were just the ones.
she knelt on the valley floor and plucked the flower — its petals intricate and interwoven like lives in a strange reality — before telling him to look. he glanced down and truly saw her for the first time.
as he took the wild rose, he marveled at its tenderness…
and her petals just as soft.
Nicolas Gonzales 